


A Different Perspective

by NightCourt_HighLady



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightCourt_HighLady/pseuds/NightCourt_HighLady
Summary: Today things are flipped on their heads: it's John who needs entertaining! Sherlock is enticed to entertain John, with amusing results





	

“Sherlock?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“I’m bored.”

 

Sherlock was startled out of his mind palace by the words. John was never bored. John always had something to do. And if he didn’t, he  _ found _ something. He didn’t inform Sherlock of his boredom. This made Sherlock very suspicious.

 

As did the almost catlike grin on John’s face. Sherlock sighed internally, but decided to humor John. He almost always did, that was one of the drawbacks to these terribly inconvenient  _ emotions _ that he had found himself awash with recently. He was starting to get tired of tiptoeing around John. 

 

Because Sherlock, in that infuriating way of his,  _ knew _ , that John felt something. He didn’t know if the man had the…well, the love, (Sherlock shivered internally at this horribly cliche sentiment) that Sherlock did, but there was obviously some attraction. Something. He saw John’s face whenever he stretched in a particular way or did something that John particularly liked (what was it about the removal of his scarf that made John scramble for waist high objects to stand behind?) but neither of them had said anything. Even Sherlock, with his limited sexual experience, knew that something was going to happen soon.

 

But since John persisted in hiding behind his sexuality, Sherlock wondered if he wouldn’t have to figure this out himself. Which was terribly inconvenient since John was usually the one better at emotional.. stuff. Sherlock now had to not only sort out his own confused feelings (feelings?) but John’s. With the additional problem of John’s sexuality. 

 

Sherlock looked at John lazily for a few moments in a way that had the other man scrambling for the blanket behind the couch. 

 

“Well what do you want to do then? You obviously want my company, otherwise you wouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of my deliberations.”

 

“I dunno, Sherlock,” (Sherlock felt a secret thrill at the way John said his name, not that he’d tell anyone), “What do you want to do?”

 

“Obviously, I want to get back to my case,” he replied. John sighed.

 

“Come on, Sherlock, I entertain you constantly when you’re bored. Can’t you return the favor at least once?”

 

Sherlock got up with the intent to slink into the kitchen, but ended up somehow standing next to John instead. How odd.

 

John simply looked at him. But oh how he looked at Sherlock. Now Sherlock was beginning to understand why John was constantly seeking waist-high objects. Sherlock was beginning to want one himself. A faint splash of pink appeared on his high cheekbones.

 

“Sherlock are you- Oomph!” John was stopped in mid sentence by Sherlock’s lips. When John began to speak, Sherlock had dropped to his knees next to John’s couch and kissed him. 

 

Sherlock sat back on his feet and stared at John. His face was incredulous and his eyes a bit wild, but he hadn’t run away yet at least.

 

“John?” Sherlock asked quietly. John started at the sudden noise, then turned very bright red.

 

“I’m sorry, John, I shouldn’t have done that,” Sherlock said quietly.

 

“No, no, Sherlock,” John replied with a small smile, “I did ask you to entertain me after all. I didn’t expect that sort of entertainment is all.”

 

Sherlock simply nodded, crushed inside. He had somehow been wrong. He thought John, at the very least, cared, maybe even loved (Ugh that word again) him. He took the change and was wrong. As he always was in matters of the heart. He let his own feelings get in the way of his objective assessments, again, and the only one he hurt was himself. None of the others ever hurt. This was why he preferred his work; it only hurt on the outside.

 

He began to get up when he was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder. The same hand tucked itself under his chin to properly align his eyes with John’s. John’s thumb lightly stroked his cheekbone.

 

“You daft bastard,” John said wonderingly, “You didn’t think I don’t care?” Before Sherlock could protest, he continued, “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to let you initiate something for weeks. I didn’t want you to feel like you were being forced into anything just because I felt a certain way.”

 

“What?” Sherlock replied confused, and, for once, speechless. John smiled again.

 

“I’m in love with you, idiot, and I’m hoping that what you just did means you feel the same way about me.” 

 

Sherlock nodded without thinking, then blushed again. John’s thumb stroked his red cheek gently, then he took his hand away, stood, and opened his arms to Sherlock. Shocked, the man stumbled into them. He laid his head on top of John’s and held him close. John was rubbing his back and pressing close.

 

Greatly daring, Sherlock gently kissed his best friend’s hair. John looked up at him, locked his arms around Sherlock’s neck, then kissed him. First gently, then a bit less than gently.

 

After a moment or two, John broke off and looked at Sherlock.

 

“I love you, you great idiot,” he said.

 

Breathless, Sherlock answered, “I love you too, John.”


End file.
